


Letting Go

by Regressive_RS



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Bittersweet, Gift, Runescape - Freeform, Video Game, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regressive_RS/pseuds/Regressive_RS
Summary: Thaerisk has to write a letter, and let his ward venture out into the world of heroics and adventure... even if he's just a tiny bit scared for her.
Kudos: 7





	Letting Go

The sounds of a quill scratching rapidly across parchment filled the sultry night air, followed by the disgruntled sigh and crumpling of said parchment in frustration. Leaning back against the worn wooden chair, Thaerisk twirled the quill between his fingers. Staring at the razor-sharp nib, he ran one hand through his brilliant white hair, and a whirlwind of feelings stirred inside of him.

His free palm sat gently on the desk, tracing the patterns in the wood’s grain, feeling the roughness and stability beneath his fingertips. A few inkwells had been scattered about to the left of a stack of parchments. On the other side sat a cup of tea, long since gone cold.

“Guthix’s Rest… Good for the nerves, and for the mind.” He thought idly, reminiscing on what Sanfew had taught him during his training.

_Particularly good when paired with a bit of spirit weed…_ He smirked to himself.

Regardless, he shook his head and he huffed to himself. It seemed he just couldn’t find the right words. Perhaps he didn’t want to.

This letter was something he’d been dreading to write for a while, but time was running short. Setting the quill gently down on the intricate wooden desk, he looked out the window towards the waning sunlight outside. Pushing back from his desk, he had barely noticed Ivy enter his humble home, and jumped slightly as she coughed to catch his attention.

“Yes, Ivy?” he said, his voice a tad gravelly. He cleared his throat and continued, “Have you finished all your duties for the day?” 

“Yes, Master Thaerisk,” she replied, indicating the basket on her arm full of herbs from the day’s harvest. Her sickle hung at her side, grimy and well-used, the white of her dress stained brown from working in the fields.

“Good, good,” he commented idly, with a flick of his hand. “Please, drop them off with Sanfew on your way home.” His eyes trained on the large willow tree in the distance, the green leaves dancing in the subtle breeze, in sync with the ripples in the lake.

“If that will be all,” she replied easily, turning to leave, her hair sweeping behind her as she does.

Snapping his attention back for a moment, he called out to stop her momentarily.

“Ivy, if it’s not too much trouble, please stop by Kaqemeex and arrange for a message delivery for tomorrow?” he said, gesturing to the parchment on his desk. It would take all night at this rate, but it needed to be done, regardless.

She gave him a soft look, but nodded regardless. He hadn’t said it, but she knew exactly what letter he was writing, to whom, and who it was about.

“Goodnight, Master Thaerisk.” Ivy said, before departing.

Once again left to his thoughts, he drummed his fingers against the sill, and looked towards the small drawer situated in the corner of the room.

_Maybe a bit of incense could help…_

His sandals clacked against the wooden floors as he swiftly pulled open the top drawer. He shook his head with a bemused smile.

“Oswin…” he whispered, to nobody in particular. Nobody else in his years as a druid had ever gone into this drawer besides her. Nicking his personal stash of spirit weed seemed to be her favorite pastime. 

“You couldn’t even visit for a day without getting into mischief,” he laughed to himself. Dwarf weed would have to do, then.

Having withdrawn a handful of incense sticks, he carried them back over to the desk, settled them into the incense burner, and lit them. The scent invaded his nostrils, and a soft haze drifted over his thoughts as he once again picked up the quill.

Taking the smell in deeply, a contented smile comes over his face as he reminisced over the little rebellious girl they had taken into the order all those years ago — back when his hair was quite a few shades darker, the lightening of which he often joked was directly attributed to her becoming his ward. 

Thaerisk had found her as a child, wandering around dazedly halfway between Burthorpe and Taverley. She was cold, starving and alone, her parents nowhere to be seen. Quiet at first, (Gods, how _that_ had changed), he brought her back to Taverley and helped her to warm up and eat. 

She wouldn’t talk about where she came from, but she wasn’t local, that was for sure. He had figured that her parents might’ve been eaten by the trolls from up north — unfortunately, it wasn’t uncommon to hear of that.

Back then, he had only recently completed his own introduction into the druid’s order, after a lifetime spent adventuring and traipsing around Gielinor. Despite his short tenure, he was the one to present the case to the council on letting Oswin join the order as well.

Their eventual decision was that she would be allowed to join, but become his responsibility. She had to attend classes with the other druid children, be taught the ways of the order, and become an otherwise full member of their way of life.

It was… a challenge, to say the least. Oswin had a hell of a temper, and a rebellious streak to match. Pair that on top of being antsy and wanting to do things her own way, it drove her teachers up the wall, and often made her the target of bullying by her peers...

The sun nearly set over the horizon now, the sky a brilliant purple and golden hue. Thaerisk could recall one particularly bad sticking point, though he cherished and treasured the outcome of it.

Oswin, for all intents and purposes when they first met, was illiterate. Beyond recognizing a few letters, she was completely unable to read and write. Given how much of their education was based in holy books and texts, it made it extremely difficult for her — to the point she started skipping her classes.

Having found out what was going on, he tracked her down one day when she failed to turn up for her classes — and found her under the very tree he saw from his window. 

He hadn’t said anything as he approached, having come up with a plan to start her on the right path. Having sat against the sturdy trunk of the tree, he could see that she wasn’t too impressed with the rather large book he withdrew from his robe.

“Books are dumb,” she’d scoffed, fiddling with the sickle on her belt, a wreath woven through her messy hair. It was clear she had been sulking, tufts of grass that had been pulled out of the ground scattered around her.

“Ah, but it’s such a wonderful day, Oswin. Wouldn’t you agree?” he’d asked in return, gesturing to the sun which was beating down upon the ground with its intense rays. 

“I simply wanted some company while I enjoyed my book,” he said, flipping the cover open, and tracing his fingers along the pages until he got to the part he was looking for. “Besides. This is not your tree, it is just a tree.” He began to read aloud.

Oswin had tried her best to ignore him, but even she couldn’t resist the lull of his voice and the story he was reading. Of course, that wasn’t actually the story he was reading, he was making it up as they went. What he’d actually brought with him was ‘ _Pikkupstix’s Guide to Summoning, Altar Tending, Vetting Assistants, and How to Tell Your Assistant’s Family They’ve Died Under Your Watch. Again._ ’ She eventually settled down next to him, and began listening along intently, as he wove an intricate story of monsters and heroes. 

He ‘read’ for an hour, perhaps a bit more, before folding down the corner of a page, and closing the book.

“It’s time for us to head back to town, Oswin. We’ll have to start preparing supper, soon,” he said, to which Oswin immediately jumped up.

“No, please finish!” she begged, tugging on his robes, and looking up at him with big eyes. He had never seen her so enraptured before.

“I’m quite busy Oswin, and I still have much work to do today… but I’ll tell you what,” he said, watching as she got more than a bit crestfallen at hearing that. 

He tilted her head up gently with his hand. “If you attend all your classes tomorrow, we can come back here and continue. Okay?” he said, patting her head.

“But what if we don’t finish tomorrow, either?” she countered. Sometimes, she was smarter than everyone else seemed to give her credit for.

“Then we can meet the day after that as well. And so on, and so on,” he reassured her, as they walked in tune back to town.

With that, they had set their routine. Oswin would attend her classes, they would meet to read, and then go home to attend their duties. Eventually, he started bringing actual story books as well, from his own personal collection from his adventuring days. 

As Oswin once put it, “You always bring stuff that’s way more interesting than at classes!” 

Eventually, he’d even gotten her to start reading to him, which had been his plan from the very start. He cherished the time spent with her, as it helped him to leverage something and keep her focused-on school, and he sincerely hoped she enjoyed the time one-on-one as much he did.

The sun had completely set now, Thaerisk found himself staring down at the parchment once more. it was illuminated solely by the incense, which had burned down considerably during his reminiscing. 

Picking up the quill for what felt like the umpteenth time, he nodded. Oswin had a spark in her, a lust for adventure. A will to do good. She’d be a much better force for the Imperial Guard than staying here and being a druid for the rest of her life. Even through his own druidly duties, he felt that action would be better than inaction, it’s part of why he had founded Crux Eqal, after all. 

Oswin had been sent up north to Burthorpe to assist as a healer for the guard, but through the grapevine he had heard that she’d become something of a formidable combatant, too. She had mentioned to him once she was considering joining up with the Guard. Not that she needed or wanted it — but she had his full blessing, whether she knew it or not.

Dipping the tip of the quill into the inkwell, he started his final draft of the letter. 

First addressing the envelope and sheathing it’d be carried in, his handwriting flowed and ebbed, until “Attn: Major Mary Rancour” is scrawled over it in beautiful, pristine letters.

Then, he moved on to the meat of the letter:

“Mary,

It has been far too long since we last spoke. Let me first congratulate you on your promotion to Major, it’s well deserved. I heard your sons and husbands’ lives have been claimed by the trolls, for which you have my deepest sympathies, and my sincerest thanks from the bottom of my heart for helping to protect Taverley from the troll menace. They are gone too soon, and so undeservedly. 

However, as is the custom for us now, I write to you in need of your assistance once again.

As you know, my ward, Oswin Knax, had been sent up to Burthorpe to assist with the war effort as a healer and medic. It’s come to my attention that she plans on joining the Guard, wanting to contribute more than she currently is, and help to beat back the trolls as everyone else does.

I simply ask that you please, take her under your wing, guide her. She has a fierce, fierce spark within her, and the strongest drive to do good that I’ve seen in a good few years. She reminds me much of us, in our younger days, if I’m to be honest. Her talents have never really lain with the druids, with our way of life. Her actions within the Guard, should she be allowed to flourish there, will far outstrip what she could do as a healer.

It is from here that I ask humbly, please help to keep her alive. In all my years on this planet, of all the things I’ve seen, watching and guiding her to become the helpful — and quite frankly heroic young woman that she is, has been my proudest achievement. Even if she is still a bit mischievous, which I know you’ll find grating.

I know I’ve once again asked too much of you, but thank you anyway in advance.

Your Truly,

  
  
Thaerisk.”

Finally finished writing, he set the quill down, having written so much that he’d worn the point down to but a nub. The light glow of the incense was the only thing that illuminated the room beyond the pale starlight outside, and he smiled. Closing his eyes, he can still picture it in his minds’ eye. The small, rebellious little girl who couldn’t read, who’d go on to not only become an avid reader, but nicked his book of stories to read to the newest little druidlings years later, under the same tree where she’d learned to read. He’d have a nice little moment there tomorrow, he figured.

  
  
He had never been so proud — or so worried, and couldn’t wait for the great things she’d do in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Awowogei and Chaos_Elemental for beta-reading and editing. :)
> 
> A gift for the amazing Enkoro_Art.


End file.
